The Four Islands
by Naomi Wiflath
Summary: Storyline of a Private Furcadia Roleplay Dream. For More information, Log into Furcadia and Whisper either 'Naomi Wiflath' or 'Skrii'. Rated T for the future. THIS IS A FURCADIAN RP FIC, NOT ORIGINAL FICTION. All anoymous Reviews on this topic will be ign
1. Prologue Eins

-Untitled-

Story Script for "The four Islands"

Furcadia is (c) to DEP & KH to Square Enix

Prologue Eins

It all started as usual. I, me. The pathetically noble and heroic person I am, go out of my way to help a boy named Izzac. His older brother had been taken away because of 'Initos'. A rare substance produced into the blood because of a genetic mutation. The people who took him away claimed to be doctors that could help him, even thought there was nothing wrong with him in the first place. They claimed it was slowly killing him, and that they had a cure. We later found out however, that the KCB organization was behind it. The KCB is a group of what id call, 'mad scientists'. Hell, what they do to people is downright gruesome. Horrid and mutilated bodies found, yet no connection could be found between the murders and the organization.

Naomi and Izzac stood in the forest that created a natural shield around the KCB compound. Through a break in the trees and brush they could see the entrance. A gate with two guards stood, connected to a barbed wire fence, around eight feet high.

Izzac wore a bulletproof vest, his twelve gauge shotgun trembling with the rest of his body. He stared at the building nervously, swallowing every five seconds, like he wouldn't ever get the chance to do it again.

He was only a boy, painted with dark freckles and topped with a sandy colored bowl cut. Naomi knew he would knowingly be walking in there to die, just to at least try and save his brother. She couldn't let him die, what would be the point of saving his brother? All they had left were each other…

"Hey Izzac…" started Naomi, making Izzac jump. He turned, before silently dropping to the ground. Naomi had given him a sharp smack with the blunt of her blade.

"I'm sorry." She finished, leaning him more comfortably against a large oak. "He can't afford to lose you as much as you cant lose him."

Naomi re-sheathed the sword on her back, safely strapped with the other on her back. She pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, making it easier to see when things got rough. A black t-shirt and pants helped her sink more into the shadows. She was never good at sneaking around, but she usually made it 'look' like she tried. Clothes cant fix clumsiness. Which was unfortunate.

It was dusk, which was the beginning of night time in the forest. As quietly as she could, Naomi slunk from the underbrush and to the metal fence. It hummed. An electrical current was pulsing through it. Naomi bit her lip, puzzled for a moment. She was at the back of the building, and to her surprise there were very few guards. The brunette drew her swords, and slashed at the fence. She struck as quickly as possible, but still expected a horrible shock. Surprisingly she felt nothing. So as quietly as possible she made few more slashes at the fence. A crudely cut piece fell into the grass, but left an opening that gave her safe entry and later; a safe exit.

She slapped at a mosquito on her face, and felt another one bite her back. Grumbling she couldn't reach far enough to get it.

Out of the blue, A shiver shot down her spine, a sense that she knew well to heed. She darted quickly through the opening and into the shadows of the buildings. She didn't know that at that moment, she was on the center stage of a scope's cross hairs.

She darted around building corners, dodging guards on their patrols. It was actually quite easy, for most were sleeping, chatting, smoking, or non existent all together.

_Well. This is pathetically easy. _She thought, rounding another building. Looming before her was the main building. The sparse industrial lighting reflected off the metal walls and large lengths of glass windows. The top of the building was an absurd angle, piercing the skyline unnaturally. Like it was trying to pop the blue and make it pour down all on humanity. Naomi sneezed. Too much thinking, not enough action.

She saw no one around at all, and figured this was the side of the main building. There was a little guards post, the small light on inside the little booth. But it was vacant. She strolled past it, and up to the wall. It was completely smooth, dashing any hope of climbing to the windows. She furrowed her brows and stared at it, waiting for an idea to appear. Naomi didn't know the guard was returning to his post, after cunningly swiping a dirty mag from another guard's booth. He rounded the bend, and gave a shout of alarm. Naomi whirled around to be blinded by a well placed flashlight beam. She fled as the guard rushed the rest of the way to his booth and onto the phone.

She skidded past another corner, and found the main entrance. It had an overhang, which made the next story windows almost reachable. Naomi ran full tilt and leapt. Her fingertips grasped the overhang, and she scrambled to her feet. Again she leapt, but her fingertips barely brushed the bottom of the sill. And it was impossible to get another running start. She unsheathed one of her blades, it flashed into a Keyblade immediately. She jumped and caught its end on the ledge. She used it to hoist herself off of the lower ledge. She could hear the guards running around, and a siren begin to wail. She summoned the other blade and threw it at the window, shattering it. With both feet placed firmly on the wall she kicked away from it, pulling the other blade towards her and performing a back flip into the window. Her feet hit the shattered glass and she slid hard onto her back.

Naomi coughed. Another wonderful moment when she actually felt cool, ruined. Spectacularly.

She shook off the glass and returned her blades to their rightful places, each flashing into normal swords for easier storage. She was in an unlit hallway, at a corner. At each end was a door with the small safety glass windows. She could see shadows moving around one, and she made for the other. It was completely quiet other then her footsteps, making it eerie. The door was unlocked, and she turned it silently. It revealed a dark storage room, full of cardboard boxes and jugs of things on shelves. She shut the door silently behind her and stalked carefully forward. The air was pungent and dangerous. It made the hair on her neck rise on end.

She took a small flashlight from her pocket and looked around. Glass industrial sized bottles labeled 'Hydrochloric Acid' among other things lined the shelves. Various boxes with radioactivity and biohazard symbols were everywhere. Naomi shuddered, suddenly unable to breathe. She had to get out of there.

She spotted an exit, and opened the door. She was met with a wave of horrid, sterile air. The room was huge, full of panels and strange machines. Workers in lab coats wandered around carrying clipboards or PDA looking devices. There were large tanks of bubbling liquids, large enough to comfortably fit a grown man.

Naomi quickly and quietly dashed behind a wide cabinet. She searched for the older brother Danyle. He was there, at the far end of the room, in one of the bubbling tubs. Wearing boxer shorts and enough wires and tubes that they could count as clothing, he looked to be unconscious. The blue liquid turning his blond hair green.

Naomi sat silently for a moment, pondering her next move. It was either Plan A: sneak around, break him out and escape or Plan B: Charge headlong through them, break him out and escape.

Suddenly, red lights began to flash on the walls, and another alarm siren sounded. There was a commotion outside the double doors of the lab.

"DANYLLLLLLLLLE!"

Naomi knew who that battle cry was from, and she swore.

Izzac, with his shotgun firing randomly, burst into the middle of the room. The lab technicians either cowered, or brandished their own handguns.

"Izzac you IDIOT!" Naomi exclaimed, kicking over the cabinet and charging into the fray. Shots were fired, one whistling past her ear. She unsheathed one of her blades and fell down upon Izzac, scooping him up and darting away. She stopped on a hidden area on top of a high cabinet, where she lay him down. He had stopped moving, three syringes lay nestled by his spine, piercing through the bullet proof armor. She yanked them out and tossed them away. She flipped him over and laid her head against his chest. He was breathing, slowly and deeply. His heart sounded fine for the moment. But her incredible fear of such things made her wary of the signs he exhibited. Things could change at any moment. She glanced over the high cabinet, and at the sight below. People were rushing everywhere, and the guards were beginning to swarm in. She didn't notice the men in black slowly coming in though the high windows and into the rafters, or into the shadows of the shelves and scientific equipment.

Naomi gave Izzac one last check before leaping into the rafters. How could these people attack a ten year old boy? How could they lie and take away his only family for sick experiments?

Naomi's blood boiled. She drew her twin swords, and leapt. She fell into one of the guards, and dashed to another. She dealt heavy blows that were fast as lightning. One word flickering in her mind. She felt nothing. She heard nothing. Only:

Revenge.

Revenge.

Revenge.

The KCB scientists shot with their hand guns, but their weapons quickly went out of order as they split in two and clattered onto the floor. They then resumed cowering under desks and equipment. The guards had real guns, with bullets that ricocheted off of the metal walls, sending off sparks. Naomi made it to the end of the room and crashed headlong into the tank. It exploded with the strange liquid, glass and the two bodies. Burning with rage, she slung the elder brother onto her back with her temporary amazing strength and leapt. Letting her swords disappear from her grasps, she incredibly grabbed the other boy and dashed away, through the storage room and out the window there. Naomi landed on her feet and knees, but ground her teeth and ran. She barreled through the gate, open for a truck to get through, and into the darkness of the forest. Her adrenalin began to thin, and so did her energy. She stumbled, the two bodies too much for her to carry. Naomi fell hard onto the ground, breathing in quickly the earthy smell of the forest floor. The eldest boy, about 14, began to stir. He rolled off and began to cough up the strange liquid from his lungs, broken wires trailing behind him.

"H-hey.." Naomi gasped. "Are you… What happened… Are you ok?.."

The boy sat up, wiping his mouth. He looked tired and drained, but still quite alive.

"I'm fine. What's wrong with my brother." He demanded, almost breathless. Naomi got to her knees and flipped Izzac onto his back.

"I dunno.." She breathed, putting a hand on Izzac's brow. He felt quite cool to the touch. "He was hit by some type of dart. I suggest you get him out of here." She said.

"Oh yeah? And what about you?" He asked. Naomi got to her feet and shot him an angry glare.

"To destroy those bastards."

She then started walking back towards the compound, that was swarming like a bee's nest someone kicked. Danyle stared.

"Are you stupid? That's like walking into your death!" He exclaimed. "Look what they did to Izzac!"

Naomi stopped walking and turned back to look at him. He was no more then a pale shadow in a sea of more shadows.

"I don't like sick and twisted freaks that try and destroy a family that's already having problems to begin with. Lets just say it's a pet peeve of mine." She growled, before turning and darting away out of sight. Danyle was at a loss for words.

_Who the hell is that?_ He thought.

Naomi ran back towards the compound, summoning her Keyblades back into her grip. She had regained her breath, but she was tired and knew this couldn't last for long. But she couldn't deny what she felt. And she felt that this place HAD to be destroyed; that something wasn't finished yet.

She was pleased to find her previous method of entry was still undiscovered, and she was soon back inside the compound. She ran into guards not far inside, and quickly mowed them over. Anything she saw she destroyed. She tore through the front door, and smashed the front desk's computer. The secretary screamed before fainting.

Naomi wove through hallways and small labs, madly swinging her swords and trashing everything. She eventually found herself running in a wide hallway that lead to two double doors. Shotgun holes were everywhere.

_The entrance!_ She burst through the door only to be met by a firing squad of guards waiting for her. _Shit!_ Naomi spun her blades in front of her and barreled through them. Most of them were too afraid to fire and stood like a deer in headlights. However a few were focused, and one hit their mark by landing a shot in Naomi's thy. She hissed and stumbled onto the floor. She didn't know how bad the injury was, only that it hurt like hell. More guards appeared, surrounding her and pointing their guns at her. She was trapped.

_No way… No bloody way… _She tried to rise to her feet, but kept stumbling. One of the guards began to yell something at her, but she didn't pay attention. _Get up…_ she thought to her self. _Get up… get up, get up Get UP! _She stumbled to her feet and stumbled into one of the guards. Using them to stay on her feet she once again barreled through them, until the last one was down. She lost her balance and fell with him. Naomi lay there, gasping. Her heart was racing in her chest and she thought it would suddenly stop.

All was quiet, except for the small fires that had broken out in the lab. Using one of her Keyblades as a walking stick, she managed to get out of the pile of unconscious guards. The Technicians fled long ago, leaving their equipment unguarded. Naomi raised her other blade to strike down on the panel connected to the broken tank, when whistling pierced the air. Followed by horrible pain in her back. She crumpled to the ground, unable to move.

"What… The hell…" She managed to whisper. She was suddenly surrounded again. She couldn't see anything but pairs of black boots standing completely still. Another pair came into her view, pacing back and fourth in front of her view.

"We've been waiting for some kind of freak like you." A rough voice said from above. The sound seemed magnified into the sounds of giant drums played an inch from her ears. It continued pounding above her.

"…and to think that some crazy fool would come anywhere near a place protected by us. But as soon as my black ops spotted you we decided to have alittle fun. We could care less about this pathetic company's ideas or whatever the hell they were doing. We're in it for the challenge. And you my friend, weren't exactly the challenge we were hoping for. But it was fun getting to run around and stretch our wings, right men?"

"Sir! Yes, Sir!"

"Good... Good… For a little girl, you were sure hard to bring down. The amount of Sylveline you have in your system now should have killed you a long time ago." He reached down and pulled four of the syringes from her back, causing her whole body to jerk. He held them between his fingers, admiring them. Like he was wolverine or something. He smiled, before tossing them away.

"You, my dear opponent. Have been hit with four of our extra special versions of the drug, pure compared to the watered down nonsense that we usually use. Oh no. This stuff is plenty deadly. We shot at you numerous times, but it seems you didn't notice." He reached down again and pulled out more. Naomi lay still this time.

"Aww. Tisk, Tisk, Tisk, its no fun when your dead. He kicked her over onto her back. She had been playing dead, but her injured leg made her yelp.

"Ah. Good." He said, walking slowly around her again. The dozen men around them stood at full attention, looking a lot like GI's or something.

The scruff solider, apparently their leader, stood up from picking something up. It was one of the guard's handguns. He turned it over and over again in his hands. Naomi tried to move, but had lost all motor control from the neck down.

"You know. They sometimes call me a cruel person. Tell me, is this cruel?" He turned his back to her and shot randomly. The bullet pierced her side and her whole body jerked, trying to pull into itself. Naomi was hit by blinding pain and she cried out before falling still again. She could still feel pain, but do nothing about it.

Naomi breathed shallowly, and she looked pale. The leader of the Co Ops Turned back round again and shrugged.

"Woops. I'm sorry. That was only meant to be a warning shot. Too bad." He started walking around again, until his footstep made a squeaking sound. "Oh dear. It seems you've gotten your blood on my shoe. Cant have you living if you've done that now can we?" He cocked the gun and aimed down between Naomi's eyes. Her vision was unsteady, and the voices began to whisper again.

_Move._

_You can't stay here._

_You're gonna die._

_Move._

_Get up._

_Just go. _

_Get out!_

_MOVE!_

The Co Ops leader pulled the trigger, and fired.


	2. Prologue Zwei

Prologue Zwei

It has been two months since leaving my home isle, and I have been fairly comfortable in my new temporary home. My family begrudgingly agreed to allow me to wander abroad, not without being pestered by numerous letters, each begging for a thorough reply.

I've complied, like the proper son I am, and have kept to good manners. However this is most difficult when one is trying to get away from such frivolities.

I now find myself on the peaceful Island of Pryin, about two hundred kilometers west of my home country. Despite what my family believes to be as 'wandering abroad', it's really more of a secret mission. My father, brother to the Duke of Harrington, is helping conspire against our peaceful neighboring countries. He plans first off, to have King Briar, the monarch of Pryin, to be assassinated. I'm afraid I could find no more about the matter, for my father soon returned. I'm afraid that my father grows suspicious of me, so I must tread carefully.

But on a more enjoyable note, I feel an escape from the 'well-to-do' life will be good for me. I'm excited to take on local ways, and maybe get rid of my habit of talking and writing in such a high class drawl.

The sun had just risen, trickling in sunlight into the room. A rooster crowed for a third time on the rooftop, causing a groan to be emitted from under the hand knit quilt. It was Saturday morning, and Yore was enjoying the common life.

He threw off the cover and enjoyed a delicious stretch before getting out of bed. Short hair that fell just over his eyes portrayed a stronger tint then his body fur. He was feline, with pointed ears atop his head and a long simple tail. He wore a pair of shorts and a simple wool shirt. His facial features were gentle, and calming.

His simple little room consisted of a straw mattress bed, side table with candle, and a little dresser. The room was small and cozy, wooden floors, walls and ceilings. There was one shuttered window, which Yore had purposely left open. The day was perfect, the air kept comfortably mild by the sea. After dawning simple trousers and his cloak, he went downstairs to the tavern. Gretta, a robust ursine and head of the 'Brack Paw Tavern & Inn' was drying some drinking glasses.

"Good morning, ma'am." Yore greeted politely. Gretta replied with a snort. Yore made his departure, for in the little time he'd been here, he learned to stay way when Gretta was cranky. This usually applied to every morning.

Yore stepped outside and into the sunshine. The streets were already bustling with furre's going to and fro the harbor and market. He decided that a nice stroll to the market would be most pleasant.

He passed by the towns bakery, stopping for a moment to get a whiff of the freshly baked homemade bread. His stomach growled. Yore had not eaten breakfast yet, and craved something good. Maybe there would be something good in the market.

The market was a wide street lined with stalls of farmers selling produce and gypsies selling shiny trinkets. Following his keen nose, he came upon a stand selling rolls with different fruits baked into them. After purchasing a lovely looking date roll, he sat down on an empty wooden bench to enjoy it.

Not far down, on the street corner stood. 'Bullhead's'. The only other tavern in town, lead by a short tempered bull named Arog. The darker folk tended to collect there; black market dealers to slave traders. More then once a day a brawl would break out, resulting in the offender being thrown so hard out the door they hit the wall on the other side of the street. Arog was someone you didn't mess with, although there was a rumor that he had an enormous crush on Gretta, but not able to swallow his pride to admit it. Gretta has still yet to comment.

Finished with his roll, he decided to drop by the tavern. He had once before, and found it to be an interesting place for some of the darker gossip. Yore threw up his hood before stepping inside. It was dark, and smelled stale and of booze. He sat down at one of the rough round tables and ordered wine. The feline sat sipping it slowly, ignoring the horrid after taste of it.

Arog was at his usual spot, behind the bar, wiping the same glass over and over. His dark hide made him fit in perfectly with the gloomy settings. The brightest thing in the room was the large golden ring in his nose.

In moments, two fox peasants came in. A male and female; both looking nervous and completely out of place. They shuffled across the room to a back corner, where they sat solemnly. They refused any drink from the waitress.

Yore couldn't help that this seemed odd, and got up to join them. But the heavy wooden door burst open again, making Yore retreat to a table nearby.

The new Furre was concealed by a heavy black cloak. A heavy leather bealt with numerous steel rings around his waist made him jingle when he walked. Chained to his belt by her forepaws was a little fox girl. She wore torn rags, as well as one tied round her snout. Her eyes were glassy, and she burst into silent tears and whimpers at the sigt of the other two vulpines. The woman turned away and cried, and the man looked submissively at the stranger. The cloaked figure pulled up a chair and sat down. He kicked the girl in the leg with his heavy boot, making her fall to her knees. The fox grimaced, but said nothing. The cloaked man then held our his hand.

The fox pulled out a small bag of what sounded like coin. The cloaked figure picked it up and started examining the bag.

"T-that's everything. All two-hundred." The fox stuttered, glancing longingly at the girl. "Everything you asked for."

The stranger examined the bag a moment more before tossing it back at the foxes.

"If i'm not mistaken, and i'm sure i'm not, I asked for five hundred." The stranger rasped.

The fox set a paw firmly on the table.

"The deal was two hundred, no more! We did what you said, now give us Maya back!" The woman pulled him back and whispered worriedly to him. The male fox growled, but then resumed his submissive composure.

"Alright. Alright. Give us another week and we'll… We'll get the money." The woman sobbed in her thin and pathetic shawl. The stranger stood up and slapped her side the face, knocking her out of her chair. The male stood up and prepared to strike back, but earned a sharp punch in the jaw. He crawled on the floor, coughing blood.

"I told you pathetic heathen five hundred. I gave you three weeks yet you still don't deliver."

The fox stumbled to his feet, wiping away the blood from his maw.

"Filthy scum. You raise the price every time we meet! I'll-." The fox was cut short by I kick in the gut. He doubled over and fell again to the floor.

"Maybe I should take this wretch of a woman too. I'm sure it'll make you work faster, and she may even be a little fun." The woman on her knees tried to scream, but was clotted aside the head once more, until she fell to inaudible whispers.

Yore could stand no more of this, and had already pulled his lyre from his cloak. Slowly walking towards them he strung a few notes.

The stranger whirled around. And as soon as they made eye contact, Yore broke into a haunting melody. The stranger fell still, and began to sway. As Yore played he whispered to the music.

The stranger went to his belt and unclipped the ring that chained the girl to him. Tripping she ran to her battered parents. The stranger then pulled a large sack of coin from his cloak, and threw it at their feet, before turning and walking out the door. Both of the parents, whom both had somewhat recovered and had untied their daughter, were now staring in awe. Yore struck one final note before stopping and stowing the lyre away again.

"Oh bless you dear boy, for bothering to help us get our daughter back." The woman said, grateful tears streaming down her face.

"Go. Go home and continue your lives once more." Yore said, cutting off any more complements. In truth he felt too embarrassed to take any more. The furres silently tried to offer him some money, but he turned them down and shoed them off.

Yore sighed, but couldn't help but smile. He had sent the stranger out f town, and for someone so easy as him to be mesmerized, it would take an hour at least to wear off.

"That was quite a stunt you pulled off, boy."

Yore turned around to find himself staring at the upper torso of Arog. He looked up at the bull, and swallowed hard. Arog grabbed one of Yore's paws and examined it for a moment.

"Soft as a calf's nose. You ain't from round these here parts. Why the hell you in my bar?" Yore pushed back some hair from his eyes, and sighed.

"I didn't mean to cause any harm, good sir. I merely wanted a glass of wine in peace." The bull snorted.

"Boy, you must be stupid. Only trouble shows up in this bar, and a soft paw like you don't belong. Your fancy trick won't work on every one." Yore held up his paws and replied simply.

"Don't worry, I have finished my wine and am ready to depart. You'll find my money on the table." With that, Yore made a gracious bow before a quick exit.

No matter what tricks he had up his sleeve, he'd rather not pick a fight with a stubborn bovine.

Yore took a deep breath of the fresh air and flipped off his hood, enjoying the sun again. It looked to be noon; yore hadn't realized he was in the Bullhead for so long. He decided to have lunch in a small restaurant, which was most delicious. After that he meandered slowly through the stalls, being pestered by the owners, whom are desperate for a good sale. It took till evening to get through them all, and Yore was about to depart when there was a commotion at the end of the street.

It was the stranger, and he was back, with a heavily armed crossbow. Everyone else fled into buildings or behind stalls. Yore turned to face the stranger, calm and collectively.

"Your sssilly tricks wont work this time." The stranger rasped, aiming the crossbow at Yore's heart. Yore did nothing to this gesture, continuing his calm appearance.

"Why you son-of-a-bitch!" The stranger fired the bolt, which flew true, until about a foot away from yore's chest. The bolt floated in the air, quivering for a moment before falling to the ground. Yore hadn't moved at all.

The stranger swore again and started firing rapidly, having each arrow stop about a foot away, quiver, then drop at yore's feet. It was moments before the stranger ran out of bolts, so he threw the crossbow aside and drew an old and battered claymore. He charged at yore, his heavy boots pounding against the cobblestone. The stranger raised his sword to strike, and froze.

"What the hell are you?" The stranger exclaimed, trying to pull his sword free from the air.

"Be gone from this place." Yore commanded, and the stranger was flung backwards onto his tail. Yore then turned and left, leaving the stranger furious, but bewildered.

The sky was painted in rainbow hues by the time yore got back to the Brack Paw Tavern. The inside was filled with the usual folk, most from the harbor. Yore perched on a barstool, and folded his hands.

"Another wine, pretty boy?" Gretta asked gruffly, looking in much better of mood. Yore nodded a thanks before settling with his glass of wine. It was much better then the mud that was served at the bullhead.

Yore drank quietly and listened to the sea' folk gossip. A sea worn stoat and a gristle elk were chatting lightly next to him.

"Oye, I was jus' fishin' offa Datyre, an I saw the strangest thing. A bri' light tha' fell off into the isle. That twas bout two week ago, and I dare not go back." The stoat said before a long draught of ale. The elk shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You know that's the best spot fer fishin. Dun let no fallin' stars spook yeh." He said, waving a hoof.

"Nonsense! I saw what I saw! A bri' light fell from tha sky and into the island!"

Yore thought for a moment. Datyre island was inhabited long ago by a very advanced race, but destroyed themselves. All that is at the island now are wild creatures and ruins. They say that some survivors took to living on another island eastward of there. But no one dares penetrate the dark forest that protects it.

His curiosity getting the best of him, Yore decided he would find someone tomorrow morning to take him to the island. He him self knew very little, and wished to find out more on his own.

End

"_I don't chase the sun, it chases me." – Breaking Benjamin_


End file.
